


Fortunan Summer

by virberos



Series: Threads of Fate [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, OC Is Nero's Mother, Whirlwind Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virberos/pseuds/virberos
Summary: At age eighteen, Cassandra Sagefire flees from home and ends up in Fortuna. Unbeknownst to her, the threads of fate weave a tapestry of her and a mysterious white-haired stranger that just so happened to arrive at the same time.
Relationships: Nero's Mother/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Threads of Fate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970140
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. Somewhere Over The Sea

With a burning braid in the dying embers of the hearth, Cassandra Sagefire left the walled city of Eternis Brillia.

Eighteen years of living behind stone walls, protected from the world that was oft described as hedonistic and cruel, Cassandra knew she had no idea how the outside world worked. But what was the better option, dashing across moonlit touched grass into the unknown or staying in a forced marriage? She couldn’t bear staying a day longer with Draco, in a marriage that was poison to all involved. Her mother had died already to it, either through her own ailing health or the marriage’s own toxicity suffocating her in her slumber. 

She never got to say goodbye before she was buried. 

She remembered the spent tears, the fights between her and Draco over how long she wanted to grieve, and the forced attempts to appear as normal as possible. What was the tripping point for her? 

_ ‘Cassandra, look, it’s a man’s world. I don’t care if you’re Saint Deirdre’s daughter, you’re my wife. That’s all you’ll ever be.’ _

Cassandra could feel her blood boil at Draco’s last words. It had been enough to gather everything she could in a sizable travel bag: papers of her lineage (she had an idea where she could go that this information would be of use), jewelry to pawn off (most of it heirlooms from her father’s side, her revenge against him for throwing her into this marriage in the first place), and a worn white-leather wallet (for cards and the like). In her heart was Astra, Blade of the Stars, bound to her bloodline from her ancestor Deirdre. 

_ ‘Oh how I curse the stars that passed Astra down to me!’ _ Cassandra thought bitterly.  _ ‘You brought this fate upon me and yet I know I’ll need you in the future, so I must keep you by my side.’ _ She glanced down to her hand, damp from the dew collected from her traversing through the tall grass. She squeezed it into a fist before she continued onward. In the distance, she could see a small slumbering town. She let out a strained exhale, knowing that she would need more than just one town between her and Eternis Brillia. She glanced up to the stars, squinting at the expansive emptiness above her. She held out her hand, a light yellow arrow forming with a spin in her hand like a natural compass. It shot south, as if leading her to a place she did not know of.

She would take it. It was all she had to go on. And so, with that, she continued on her path through the damp grass.

\---

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since she had departed from Eternis Brillia. And Cassandra hadn’t felt so exhausted in her life. 

Living her life on the roads was stressful, between changing money between the United Kingdom and the recently formed European Union, getting the food and sleep she needed, and protecting herself as best she could from human thieves and demons alike. There were times where she picked up small jobs in exterminating demons in exchange for room and meals but those jobs were few and far in between. Not that she was any less grateful for those jobs, but such a transient lifestyle was stressful. She would’ve loved a warm bed and a place to stay that wasn’t a hostel or someone’s attic. 

Cassandra glanced up, listening out for the arrival of the ferry. The warm sun bathed the Italian seaside pier that she found herself at. Her bag was a little lighter from pawning off jewelry for cash to get food and pay for a room whenever she could but that was a small price to pay for freedom. Now, resting under the shade of the building’s awnings, she was waiting for the final leg of her journey: the ferry to the sister city of Eternis Brillia, Fortuna. 

She wasn’t sure how a mostly-isolated island nation that worshipped a demon was diplomatically tied to what would be it’s thematic opposite. She had spent the last few hours mulling over the diplomatic ties between the two isolated communities. The only thing she could think of was an old legend she heard from her mother (her heart ached at the memory of her departed mother, a still raw wound): that Deirdre and Sparda respected the other’s fighting prowess. Sparda was the only demon that Deirdre could not best, barring Mundus himself, and so they allegedly called it a draw. It was that respect that prompted the two cities to have diplomatic ties. 

_ ‘Whatever the reason.’ _ Cassandra thought.  _ ‘Fortuna will be my new home. Since the two cities have had ties with each other for years, I doubt they’ll bat an eye at my arrival.’ _ She thought. She already had a reason why she was here: an extended vacation from the cold city far up north. Fortuna was isolated so the news of her fleeing from home probably hadn’t come to the higher ups yet. Alternatively, she could claim asylum from an abusive husband (which was far closer to the truth) and be hidden from Eternis Brillia. 

The latter plan sounded better than the former. 

She glanced up, watching as the ferry for Fortuna crept closer to the pier. She jumped up and pulled out the ferry ticket, following the crowd to the ferry gate. She quickly glanced up, making sure that she was at the correct gate (she was) before the crowd shuffled forward. She followed, squeezing her way through the groups of people as best she could onto the ferry.

After handing her ticket to the ticket guard, she rushed to the front of the boat. Just beyond the waves and the haze, she could just barely imagine Fortuna beyond. She had only seen it in paintings, it’s most noticeable feature being the tall monolithic Hell Gate, claimed to be sealed off by Sparda himself, in the middle of town. It was closed off from the general public, aside from very old paintings in museums. Cassandra leaned against the railing of the ferry, keeping her bag close to her. She heard a whistle blow behind her as the ferry smoothly glided out of port and across the waves. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun seep into her skin. She took in a breath, inhaling sea salt and the spray of the ocean. 

It smelt of freedom. A freedom that, despite all the struggle and pain, was worth the world to her. 

_ ‘Mother. If you could see me now...would you be proud of me?’ _

\---

“Phew!” Cassandra flopped down on the couch, letting out a harsh exhale. She ran a hand through her damp hair from the quick shower she took. Her jacket was draped over a chair lazily. She had enough strength to put her dress back on, just in case someone dropped by unexpectedly. Mentally, her brain was fried. Between the paperwork of becoming a Fortunan resident (thankfully expedited due to her connections to Eternis Brillia and her heritage) and finding a suitable apartment to live in (an apartment with a beautiful circle window that overlooked Fortuna’s Opera House and many other old grand buildings), Cassandra barely had time to rest her feet and mind. She was thankful that they recognized her as a descendant of Saint Deirdre, Sparda’s only defeat by human hands and mutual warrior. With that recognition was the very apartment she was in along with a stipend for food and living essentials. If she saved enough, maybe she could splurge a little, but those thoughts were for later. Her bag was in the bedroom, shoved under the bed to hide it from would-be robbers (if any, just in case). Perhaps one of those heirloom pieces of jewelry could be sold or gifted to someone special (that wasn’t named Draco)? But, right now, she was beat and a nap sounded particularly good right about now-

There was a knock at the door. Cassandra raised an eyebrow and slowly lifted herself up from the couch, stretching and wincing at the cracking noises from her back. She walked to the front door, ignoring her feet screaming for rest, and opened the door. Standing in front of her was an older couple (compared to her, a spry young eighteen year old) and a stern-looking six year old. In the man’s arms was an infant, a few months shy of a year old if Cassandra had to guess. The infant was clinging tightly to a plush dove like it was their most treasured possession. The brunette woman held a box in her hands, Cassandra could smell the freshly baked bread emanating from the box. The man, posture stiff and formal (and a bit too familiar for her comfort), bowed to her. 

“Miss Sagefire.” She blinked. Already, she was known? Unless he was related to the Order of the Sword, the governing force of the island, she should’ve been unknown. “Welcome to Fortuna.” 

“Enrico!” The woman snapped. “You don’t need to be so stiff with her. Poor thing looks startled out of her mind to see us here!” The man, Enrico, looked apologetic at the woman pointing out the formality in his voice. The woman looked at Cassandra with a big smile. “May we come in?”

“I...guess? Hi?” Cassandra awkwardly stepped aside. “Who are you?” She pointed the question more at Enrico, green eyes focused on him distrustfully. 

“My name is Enrico Elesion, Supreme Commander of the Order. I heard of your arrival when you were seeking out the Order to settle here.” Ah, now she remembered. He was there during the signing of the papers that would allow her to stay on the island. He smiled politely to her, a stiff sort of politeness of a noble meeting another noble (which they both were. Made sense). “My wife, Cecilia, owns the bakery next door. When I mentioned you to her, she insisted we come to greet you.” 

“And the children?” Cassandra asked carefully as the boy shut the door closed behind him. “I can only guess they’re yours.”    
  


“Credo and Kyrie.” Enrico looked down to the infant, who was staring at the apartment with wide eyes. She let out a babble, pointing at Cecilia placing the box on the counter. Cassandra followed her hand to see Cecilia open the box, showing off warm muffins and bread. The smell of warm bread seemed to rush through the apartment, a scent that threw Cassandra back into a memory of the old bakery in Eternis Brillia, where she had visited with her mother-

_ ‘Enough of that!’ _ She mentally scolded herself.  _ ‘I don’t need to cry in front of guests!’ _

“Enrico told me quite a bit about you.” Cecilia spoke, thankfully giving Cassandra an out from the memory. “You’re quite brave setting out on your own from Eternis Brillia.” Perhaps they weren’t going to mention the reason why she set out, not in front of the children (although Kyrie probably wouldn’t remember this. Credo? Probably). 

“Erm, yes. I had to see the world that was closed off from me for myself. My mother spurred me to not just stagnate in Eternis Brillia.” She said. A half-truth, as her mother was technically the reason why she left, part of it at the very least. Cassandra walked over to the box and pulled out one of the muffins. “Haven’t had fresh bread in a while.” She admitted, trying not to sound too hungry for simple warm bread. Three weeks of day old bread and past-expiration date fruit was three weeks too long for Cassandra. Cecilia merely smiled at her, not judging her at all for diving into the box of fresh bread. She walked over to the pantry, opening it to judge it’s contents (or lack thereof).

“Have the Order given you your first stipend yet?” She asked. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, they have. I was going to save groceries for tomorrow. Bureaucratic stuff just drains me.” Cassandra said, keeping a very aware mind of her language. While travelling, she had picked up a few choice words but she knew better than to start swearing around children. She couldn’t, not at this point in time. 

Speaking of the children, she noticed Credo was by her side. His brown eyes stared up at her, already mirroring his father in action. He looked so alike, it was almost as if Credo was a miniature version of his father. 

“Miss Sagefire?” He asked with his best attempts at politeness. “My father mentioned you had a special sword. May I see it?”  _ Astra _ . She had summoned it, to prove her claim of being the descendant of Saint Deirdre. She still remembered the awe on their faces when it appeared in her hand, faintly glowing blue before she gave it a twirl, impaling it into the wood floor. She looked up to his father, who nodded to her. 

“Alright. If your father says it’s ok. But you can’t touch it. I don’t want you hurt.” She explained, kneeling down to meet the boy at eye level. Credo nodded sternly (he had his father’s nod down pat, she mused). She let the blade appear in her hand and carefully leaned against it, the tip buried in the floor. Credo seemed to inspect it, like a commander inspecting his troops, before nodding in satisfaction. She dismissed the blade in a flash of blue light. “You take a lot after your father, don’t you?”

“My father’s the Supreme General!” Credo puffed up his chest. It was honestly so cute, enough to let a small smile form on her lips. “He helps protect us so I’m gonna grow up to do the same!”

“A noble goal, little one.” She said, ruffling his hair. He seemed to balk at that. “But don’t forget to enjoy what you have now. You’ll miss it when you’re older.” A familiar ache seeped into her heart at that. She could barely consider what she had when she was his age a childhood. Forced into etiquette lessons, dolled up for public appearances, choices made with no consideration for her feelings...she could only wish to have the happy childhood she read about in stories. Credo seemed to mull over her words before Cecilia spoke up. 

“Miss Sagefire?” Cassandra stood, turning around to face her. 

“Just Cassandra is fine. Please.” She had to nip that now. She didn’t need formalities, she didn’t  _ want _ formalities. She was just...Cassandra Sagefire, nobody special aside from the spirit weapon, something no normal person would be able to glean from her at first glance. 

“Would you like to accompany me to the market tomorrow?” Cecilia asked. 

“Of course. I mean, I have no idea where anything is in Fortuna, I just arrived and all.” Cassandra smiled awkwardly at Cecilia. Cecilia merely smiled back at her as she closed the pantry. “Thank you for the bread, by the way. It’ll tide me over until tomorrow.” 

“Of course!” Cecilia beamed at her before pulling out a card. “If you ever need anything, just call, OK?” Cassandra nodded as she took the card. “It was lovely to meet you. Goodbye!” Cecilia began to lead her family out of the apartment.

“Goodbye.” Cassandra waved as the family left. She leaned back, gaze moving to the window to finally have that nap she wanted. As she slipped into slumber, she swore she saw a blue coat flutter behind an alleyway. She frowned for a moment before shrugging, dismissing the sight as a figment of her exhausted imagination. She closed her eyes and finally, effortlessly, slipped into slumber.


	2. Books and Blades

_A couple weeks later..._

Cassandra quietly slid the genealogy book back into it’s shelf. The library of Fortuna, not too far from the Opera House, was one of the oldest publicly accessible libraries in the city. There was one significantly older library in Fortuna Castle but, as Cassandra didn’t really have a good enough reason to access it aside from ‘genealogical research’, she settled with being here. As for herself, she had settled well into Fortuna with Cecilia’s help, but she knew the Matrons whispered behind her back about her. Gossipy old women with nothing better to do, she had better things to worry about than their envenomed words. It was quite nice, to be surrounded by the scent of old books and the quiet aura that the library provided. It was her sanctuary from the judgemental glares of her golden hair, reflecting the sun’s rays, not bound by the white hood most of Fortuna’s citizens wore. She wasn’t bound to the rigid worship of Sparda like they were (and yet, she found her faith in the Earthmother having eroded away. That was a thought for another time). If there was _anything_ she could ask for less of, it was the statues of Sparda that were on every fountain and public building in Fortuna. Their stone gazes, much like the one statue that was staring down at the aisles of the very library she was in, was almost...unsettling. Perhaps intentionally so.

Cassandra did her best to ignore the stares of a who knows how old statue and picked up her papers at the table. Her research had borne fruit: a great aunt of hers had indeed migrated to Fortuna and settled permanently on the island. Her son had returned to Eternis Brillia to marry but he arrived with the surname Elesion. With that connection, Cassandra had people to go to in case something happened. 

Content with that, she placed her papers in her bag before deciding to meander through the library's many shelves. Fiction, non-fiction, fantasy...Cassandra’s hands grazed against the worn leather spines lazily. The libraries of Eternis Brillia barely matched those in Fortuna, although she was certain that the library in Fortuna Castle could surpass what Eternis Brillia had. As her feet walked through the library, she found herself at a shelf full of books of poetry. 

Right next to a man with a familiar blue coat, hidden beneath a worn travel coat. She could sense a strong demonic energy, practically radiating from him. It reminded her of lightning, unpredictable and powerful. She carefully pulled out a book, flipping open a page. She smiled at the poem laid before her, a poem about lightning itself. Perfect for this mysterious stranger standing next to her. She began to read aloud.

_And sky and earth showed what they were like:_

_the earth panting, livid, in a jolt;_

_the sky burdened, tragic, exhausted:_

_white white in the silent tumult_

_a house appeared disappeared in the blink of an eye;_

_like an eyeball, that, enlarged, horrified,_

_opened and closed itself, in the pitch-black night._

“...whatever are you going about, woman?” The stranger’s voice, a tad nasally but not off puttingly so, was dripping with irritation at her presence. It didn’t deter her. 

“You remind me of lightning.”

“You say that as if you know me.” He growled. Cassandra shrugged.

“It’s true. I don’t.” She said. “But first impressions told me a bit about you.” She saw the stranger cock his head at her. She glanced around, making sure nobody was nearby, before leaning closer to the stranger to continue. “Do you think I couldn’t sense your infernal presence?” She whispered. “It radiates off you, a deterrent to humans to keep their distance.” He scoffed at that.

“Not you.” 

“Not I. I was drawn to you because of it. It’s interesting how you managed to keep under the radar of the Order with an aura like that.” She closed the book and slid it back into its place. She could feel his gaze on her hand before glancing back to her. 

“Are you with them?” He asked, shifting a little to face her properly. She noticed the handle of a weapon hidden beneath his cloak, perhaps the source of that aura? She crossed her arms lazily, leaning back just a little.

“In a sense.” Cassandra mused. “The Order knows I exist, they give me money because I could prove who my ancestor was, and I have a nice place because of them. But I do not work with them on any official capacity.” The stranger bowed his head a little, seeming to mull over her words before glancing back up at her.

“Then it does not bother you that they worship a demon as a god?” 

“Better that they worship a demon who could care than passive saints who only stare.” A quiet fell between them. The stranger stared at her from under the hem of his hood.

“I would recommend keeping your distance from the Order. I don’t trust them.” 

“I trust as far as I need to.” Cassandra replied carefully. Perhaps this stranger had reason to be hesitant about the Order, reasons she wasn’t privy to. “But I’ll keep your warning in mind.” The stranger nodded and turned. “Will we meet again?” 

“Us? Meet again?” The stranger asked. “Unlikely. Keep your distance from me, woman.” 

_‘Well, that’s edgy.’_ Cassandra thought as he turned around a bookshelf to leave. She listened to the sound of his bootsteps growing distant. The stranger, who she didn’t even know his name, had a magnetic pull to her she couldn’t quite explain. He certainly was rough...but perhaps he didn’t see her as much more than a nosy noblewoman (which was a little rude but understandable). It was that pull that caused her feet to follow him out the door of the library into the empty streets of Fortuna, bathed in twilight. The streetlamps had flickered on at this point, spreading artificial white light to lead the way. She glanced to the side, watching the cloaked man stride quickly down the streets. She walked after him, a sense of unease crawling up her spine. 

It was a familiar sense of unease, she realized. She had felt this way before, when she was being hunted by demons- 

“DUCK!” She yelled, summoning Astra. The blue and silver rapier glimmered in the fading light of the sun. She threw the rapier forward towards the stranger, who immediately moved out of the way. He turned to her, his hood flying off his head to reveal snow-white hair and infuriated silver-blue eyes. 

“Are you trying to get me killed, woman!?” He snarled. Cassandra pointed to where Astra had landed: in the corpses of three skewered rapidly decaying scarecrow-looking demons. 

“I had to act, unless you think getting skewered by demons is fun.” Cassandra said as Astra disappeared from the corpses. It reappeared in her hand. The scarecrow-looking demons faded into ash. “Now look alive! There’s more coming, I can sense it!” 

“Very well.” He scowled, throwing off his cloak. She recognized the blue coat he wore, she had seen it once before. Throwing that out of her mind, she noticed more of the scarecrow demons were appearing around them. Cassandra flicked her eyes around as they jeered and laughed, hobbling towards them. She glanced back at the stranger, pulling out his weapon. It was a blade she had never seen before, equal parts elegance and danger. He was just as armed as she was, something that made her smile. She returned her gaze to the encroaching demons.

“Let’s dance!” Cassandra dashed forward, Astra meeting its mark in the body of one of the scarecrow demons. She swept to the side, ripping it’s body open. Twirling to another demon, she promptly thrust Astra into the demon’s midsection, earning a howl of pain from her demonic enemy. Ripping the blade out, she delivered a decisive slash before it burst into ashes. She smirked before the stranger suddenly appeared next to her, grabbing her waist and pulling her aside to slice at three demons that would have landed behind her.

“Pay attention, woman!” He growled as the demons ashen remains fell to the ground. “Unless you wish for death.”

“Getting real tired of you just calling me woman!” Cassandra huffed. “It’s Cassandra, by the way!” She glanced at how close they were. “...you’re lucky you’re handsome enough for me to give this a pass.” 

“...Vergil.” Cassandra blinked in confusion before realizing that he was giving her his name. She nodded before looking at the demons that were encroaching on them.

“How about we send these monsters back to the hell that they came from?” Cassandra said with a smirk.

“Let us.” Vergil growled, loosening his grip on her as the demons charged. Now in close quarter combat, the two slashed and sliced at the demonic horde that had surrounded them. With each step and slice, the two weaved through the small space they had together like they had fought side by side for years. Cassandra ducked under the swing of his elegant blade, dashing forward to impale a demon in their moment of weakness and finishing them off for good. 

“So, what’s the name of that fancy blade of yours?” Cassandra barked as she swung her leg out to knock over a demon. The demon yelped as it stumbled into the thrust of Vergil’s blade.

“Save your breath for killing demonic scum.” Vergil growled. Cassandra scoffed as she sliced into the side of another demon. It fell onto another, sending both onto the ground. Cassandra smirked, taking their weakness to her advantage as she sliced the two bodies in twain. She spun on her heel to throw Astra out to a rather cheeky demon creeping up behind Vergil, the blade barely missing his azure coat. It pierced the demons before disappearing in a blast of silver light, reappearing in her hand in order for her to stab a demon that was getting too close to her. She twisted her body to stand, seeing no demons nearby-

Except Vergil, who’s blade was outstretched. Her body mirrored his, the tips of their weapons aimed at their neck. Cassandra took in deep breaths, exhausted by the effort of slaying the demons, but trying so hard not to show signs of weakness to the skilled swordsman in front of her. She felt his blade lift, just a little, to tilt her head up. Cassandra kept her gaze on his, dark green meeting silvery-blue. After a few tense moments, he lowered his weapon. Cassandra did the same. The fluttering of cloth caused her to glance over to Vergil’s cloak, fluttering harmlessly to the ground. He returned the sword to it’s elegant scabbard. Grabbing the cloak, he turned around. 

“You got a place to stay?” Cassandra asked, dismissing Astra. Vergil paused. “Look, if you don’t, I got a room for you. I have more space in my place than I know what to do with.” 

“You would readily allow a stranger into your home?” 

“Are we strangers though?” Cassandra cocked her head to the side. “If you think I fear the Matrons of Fortuna, then you’re wrong.”

“Those women are harpies, hiding under their supposed holiness.” Vergil growled. Cassandra shrugged. 

“Come on, let’s head back to my place.” Cassandra jerked her head down the street. “I’ll even swing by Cecilia’s bakery for some bread to make dinner with.” Vergil remained still before turning around. With a smile, Cassandra began to lead him down the cobblestone street. "What brings you to Fortuna, if I may ask?"

"Knowledge." Vergil said curtly. Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

“Ooookaaay…like, how to dismantle the Order? Or demon-slaying knowledge? There’s more than one type of knowledge, you know.” Cassandra tried to pry more out of Vergil, who gave her a dismissive look. 

“Sparda was known as the most powerful demon to have lived.” He explained. “He defeated Mundus at the height of his power. That kind of power...I want to know what fueled him. What made him strong.” Cassandra thought about it. 

“Well, I guess looking around his alleged feudal domain would be a pretty good destination for that kind of knowledge. But you do know how knowledge becomes legend, becoming gilded with exaggerations and metaphors.” She pointed out. 

“I am aware of that.” Vergil glanced at Cassandra. “And now I ask a question of you: you spoke earlier of an ancestor of yours that earned you a place here. Who were they to earn their respect?” 

“Deirdre Sagefire.” Cassandra began. “According to some accounts, she was the only human that Sparda could not best in combat. There’s an epic poem known as The Tale of the Long Vigil, which claims that Deirdre and Sparda fought on the field of battle to defend a human settlement. Allegedly, that battle was the catalyst for Sparda’s awakening to justice.” She paused, looking to Vergil. His face was unreadable. “But the primary source for that is an epic poem that’s used for propaganda by the very powers that rule over the human settlement that Deirdre defended.” 

“Do you believe it?” 

“No.” Cassandra said with an air of finality. “I don’t.” The two rounded the corner, Cassandra perking up at the familiar sight of the Elesion Bakery. “And there’s our dinner! Fresh bread from Cecilia’s bakery.” 

“How special is this bread that you swear up and down by it?” Vergil asked. 

“Well, it’s not as much as the bread as the woman who bakes it. Cecilia’s done a lot for me.” Cassandra sighed. “And the bread’s really dang good. I love her sourdough bread pretzels.” She paused. “Do you have a preference for bread?”

“Not particularly.” Vergil said. Cassandra beamed at that.

“Well, do I have a treat for you! Just need to get some garlic bread bites from Cecilia, I have the dips in the fridge at my place.” Vergil cocked his head a little. “Cecilia’s garlic bread dipped in tomato sauce is delicious. But if you don’t like tomato sauce, then I have cheese to melt. Or you could eat it as is.” 

“...it does sound appetizing.” Vergil admitted.

“Well, I know what we’re having for dinner.” Cassandra said as they approached the bakery. “Garlic Bread and Sauce Platter. The best dinner, if I say so mys-”

“Shut up and just retrieve these bread bites.” Vergil growled. “The night is short.” Cassandra held up her hands, not at all intimidated by his growl.

“Alright alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Cassandra waved her hand and stepped inside the bakery to retrieve said garlic bread bites. Despite Vergil’s...roughness (if she could call it that), he wasn’t that bad on the eyes. He had referred to her as ‘woman’ which bothered her a little but he had the excuse of not knowing her name. He had followed her to the bakery and seemed interested in the promise of food, so he _had_ to like her enough to not just leave. He hadn’t interrupted her nor had he continued to demean her after knowing her name. He did seem impatient but impatience was different than presuming that she was inferior because of her sex (which was not a vibe she got from him, thank the Earthmother for that). 

With garlic bread bites in hand, she returned to Vergil with a smile. Perhaps this relationship could be the start of something new for her? Something about Vergil just made her eager to get to know him more. And she hoped she would know more in the coming summer days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Cassandra recites is Il lampo (The Lightning) by Giovanni Pascoli.


	3. Glimmering Sand

Days turned into weeks, weeks into a month, and a month into two.

It had been two months since she arrived at Fortuna, almost two months since she met Vergil. During that time, she had learned quite a bit about the mysterious young man she had given a home to. 

For starters, his sword, the elegant blade, was off limits. It was something he stated as they ate garlic bread bites with dipping sauces (something that he enjoyed, if the faintest smile she got for it was anything to go by). But she did manage to get the blade’s name out of him: Yamato. A fitting name for an elegant blade, she thought. She also learned that Vergil was particularly evasive when it came to his past, something she sympathized with. The memory of her mother was not something she could so easily speak casually about. 

But they did find one thing in common: Sparring. It led to them going down to an isolated part of Fortuna’s pristine beaches and sparring on the sand, Astra and Yamato throwing sparks as they fought. It was these sparring sessions that Cassandra lived for, between the dull but warm days between them. The sparks that flew between them sated a sort of internal hunger for excitement ever since her arrival. It was nice to not worry about when her next meal would be but something had to replace that hunger for adventure.

“Enough!” Vergil snapped. Cassandra stopped, panting heavily. The setting sun glimmered across the sea. It bathed the area around them in warm orange light. Cassandra had to admit, as she looked up at her fellow swordsman, the coatless Vergil, muscles shining with sweat from their intense spar, it was a good look for him. He stood, sheathing Yamato back into her scabbard. “That is enough for today.” 

“Yeah....” She panted, dismissing Astra. “Let’s rest before heading back.” She walked over to the little picnic blanket she set up for them, their respective coats splayed out on it, and flopped down. Opening the basket, she pulled out a water bottle and began to drink. She glanced to the side, watching him do the same. “So, anything new you found in those dusty libraries?” She asked. 

“Unfortunately, no.” There was a hint of frustration in that. She sighed. 

“I hope our bi-weekly sparring sessions alleviate the frustration of not finding anything.” Cassandra inquired, capping the water bottle and setting it aside. She reached into the basket to grab an apple to munch on. “You seem...not as cold when we’re beating the piss out of each other.” 

“Must you phrase everything so crudely?” Vergil huffed. 

“You haven’t left me yet.” She pointed out. Vergil didn’t reply to her, taking one of the apples from within the basket to eat. Cassandra smirked at Vergil’s silence and continued to eat the apple. With her other hand, she reached back to turn on the radio. Fortuna only had one radio station, mostly to broadcast the sermons of His Holiness, Benedict Sanctus. His successor and son-in-law, Ansaldo Sanctus, seemed to be just as capable of oratating as Benedict but she didn’t trust picks based on nepotism. There was also the fact that something seemed...off about Ansaldo. 

Putting that thought out of her mind, there was also the other thing the radio tended to play when there weren’t sermons being preached: sanitized versions of popular mainland hits. Even if the words were mangled for a more conservative audience, the vibe of the song remained. And right now, a sultry low-key number was playing. Cassandra looked to Vergil before setting her finished apple core aside.

“Hey Vergil. You know how to dance?” Vergil blinked at her question.

“No...why do you ask?” 

“Wanna dance?” She asked, stretching out her hand. Vergil stared at her offered hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get mad if you step on my toes.” She teased at his hesitation. He gave her a look of offense (although she noticed there was no real malice behind it) before carefully taking her hand. She pulled him up from the ground and onto the edge of the damp sand. “Just...you know, do what feels right.” Vergil furrowed his brow at that, his eyes staring at their conjoined hands before nodding. 

As the song progressed, spanish guitar twanging over the airways, Cassandra found Vergil’s attempts at dance to be as unyielding as his style of fighting: hard pulls and turns. Cassandra responded in kind, the dance more of a battle of dominance than a dance between two friends. It was as if Vergil was internally grappling with emotions he hadn’t felt before, emotions of want and need but the desire to remain aloof and distant. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his gaze neutral with the faintest hint of a smile. Cassandra, however, didn’t mind it at all. For one thing, she wasn’t going to pressure Vergil to tell her what he was thinking. For another, the unknown was far more exciting. This was nothing like the practiced dances she was used to, for grand ballrooms under painted ceilings, with every noble faking smiles to earn her favor. There was something especially thrilling about dancing with Vergil, a thrill she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Was it the especially close contract, only a breath apart from each other? The already mentioned unknown? The fact that Vergil’s eyes often lingered on her, even if he was unaware of it? She had no idea and the mere thought of it was fire in her veins. 

When the song ended, the two were pressed against each other, chest to chest. Cassandra noticed Vergil’s gaze was flickering to anywhere but her. Perhaps he was nervous about his performance? She took a hand and gently cupped his face, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“You did good, for someone who doesn’t know how to dance.”

“Don’t flatter me.” He growled. 

“I’m not.” She pulled back her hand and tried to boop his nose. He took her hand, a little too harshly. “You don’t believe me?”

“...I’ve been made a fool of before.” He admitted, turning his head away from her. His grip loosened on her hand. Cassandra hummed thoughtfully. From what she knew of her friend, his life had been fraught with hardship. She used her other hand to tilt his face back to her.

“In that case...will you believe this?” She asked softly before gently pressing her lips against his, intending to stay for a brief moment. To her surprise, she found him hungrily reciprocating the kiss, his hands clinging onto her body tightly, as if fearing to let her go. Her hands drifted up into his silver hair, keeping him close to her as she kissed him. It was sloppy, unsure even, but, for Cassandra, it was heaven.

When she pulled back for air, Vergil’s face was beet red. She let out a breathless chuckle, her hands moving to settle at his forearms. “Believe me now?” She asked. Vergil’s lack of a response made her laugh. 

“You mock me.” He huffed.

“I’m only teasing you Vergil.” She pulled away, noticing the way his hands lingered. She walked over to the radio, already on another song, and turned it off. “Come on, the sun’s setting. Let’s head home.” She said. She wrapped her coat around her shoulders before picking up their trash and the blanket. 

“Yes. Let’s.” Vergil said as he walked over to help her, wrapping his coat around his shoulders. With the blanket folded up over the basket, Cassandra led the way back to Fortuna, bathed in the red light of the setting sun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be shorter but think of it as a prologue for what's coming up next. ;)


	4. Summer Rose

“And now, the weather!” The radio host chirped out. Cassandra lazily glanced to the radio, her jacket lazily tossed to the side. “Clear skies and warm weather is going to last into the week.” Cassandra let out a soft laugh, glancing up to the cloudless sky. Hanging high in the sky, surrounded by glimmering stars and the abyss of the night was a full moon. She was seated on the roof of the apartment complex (if it could be called that) that she had lived in for the past two months. “Rest well tonight, Fortuna, and Savior’s mercy to all!” And with that, the radio changed to the sanitized summer hits from the mainland. Cassandra let out a sigh, laying down on the blanket that she had laid out a couple hours before. Not too far from the blanket was a couple lanterns she borrowed from Cecilia and Enrico, fully intending to return them tomorrow. She had invited Vergil up here for stargazing and reading (there was a small pile of books next to the blanket). Although Vergil had agreed, he hadn’t arrived yet. Cassandra wondered why he was late, barring any demonic interference. Demons always seemed to love to pounce on Vergil specifically, for reasons she wasn’t too sure of. She half-expected that the demon attacks were more focused on her, given her heritage. Vergil passed the attacks as coincidence but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else to it…something she wasn’t quite privy to yet. 

“I’m here.” Cassandra jerked up into a sitting position, hearing the sound of fluttering cloth. She watched as Vergil leapt up onto the roof. He walked towards her with a bag in hand. “I apologize for being late.” 

“Oh, it’s fine.” Cassandra waved her hand. “You just missed the weather report for the week: clear skies and warm weather.” She watched as he settled down on the blanket. “What’s in the bag?”

“Books, of course.” He said. “And...something for you. Since you mentioned you were bringing food.” He set the bag down and opened it, producing a white wild rose. He offered it to her awkwardly. “For you.” 

“For me?” Cassandra asked, taking the rose. She placed it behind her ear. “Thank you Vergil. You romantic.” She teased. Vergil blushed and frowned. Cassandra chuckled and leaned back, taking a nearby book into her hand as he shed his coat. “Hm, Poems of the Savior-”

“Nonsense.” Vergil huffed.

“You don’t think Sparda was a poet?” 

“No. Nothing supports the idea he ever put words to paper. I would imagine it’s some second-rate poet trying to pass his work as Sparda’s.” Vergil said. Cassandra flipped it open, curious as to see its contents.

“In Latin? Wait…” She murmured, squinting. “I remember some of these. It’s just a repackaging of the Carmina Burana. I remember reading that back at home.” 

“The Carmina Burana?” Vergil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a bunch of songs. Some satirical, some romantic, others about gambling and drinking, it’s a bit of...an oddball collection.” Cassandra shrugged. “I think a copy was kept at my old home for its historical value and not for its content. It’s interesting that the book was renamed like this, unless it was a smuggled book that ended up in my hands.” She glanced at Vergil. “Want me to read a little of it?” 

“Since you know so much about it.” He said, seemingly disinterested in it. Cassandra shrugged and flipped through the pages. After a few minutes, she settled on a passage that caught her eye.

_ Love me faithfully, _

_ Taking heed of my loyalty, _

_ With all your heart, _

_ With all your mind. _

_ I am closest to you _

_ When I am far away; _

_ Whoever loves like this _

_ Rides on the wheel of Fortune. _

She glanced at Vergil as she carefully closed the book. His expression was almost unreadable, aside from the intense focus on her. She set it aside and tried to sit up, only for Vergil to unexpectedly close the distance between them. Cassandra blinked in surprise at the sudden movement, now pinned against the blanket.

  
“Well.” Cassandra hummed. From seeming disinterest to a rather sudden interest...that was odd. Unless it wasn’t about the Carmina Burana at all but something more...primal, awakening from the passage she read. “What brought this on?” She asked, reaching up to thread a hand through Vergil’s silver hair. 

“...I need you.” He murmured, lowering his head to rest against hers, a soft admittance of something he had denied for some time from the sounds of it. “You’re in my thoughts, more than you should be.” His hands skimmed along her dress before reaching back. She could feel his hands, trembling against the back of her dress, waiting for her consent. Cassandra mused over it before reaching back, undoing the back of her dress to let his hands rest on her bare back. Relief and surprise flickered in his eyes (or did she imagine it?). She turned around, letting Vergil watch as she pulled the dress off her body. It slid off her form, revealing her bare form. She felt his hands slide along her sides before grasping her breasts, earning a moan from her. 

He shot forward, lips meeting the warm skin of her collarbone. His hands groped and massaged her breasts, fingers pinching at the sensitive buds. Cassandra shuddered at the attention received from his hands, hands tightening into fists. She softly panted as Vergil pulled her close to pepper more bites on her collarbone. Leaning her head back to rest on Vergil’s shoulder, a shimmering heat built in her core from his hands and kisses. She felt him pull her down onto the blanket, taking her lips in a needy kiss. Her hands trailed up his front, fingers seeking out where they could open up his vest. Finally finding the zipper, she pulled down. He quickly got the message, helping her shed the vest. He tossed it to the side, onto his coat, before he let out a groan as her hands happily explored his chest. She swore, for the briefest of moments, she saw a flicker of something infernal in his eyes.

Perhaps she was blind with lust. With love. With whatever they had. She wanted more of it. 

Shoes were kicked off and tossed aside, followed by pants and underwear. He paused, staring at her neck. She raised an eyebrow.

“Is something the matter?” 

“You bruise.” He murmured. Perhaps he didn’t? Or he was that evasive that he didn’t get injured often. 

“It looks good on me, considering it’s by your will.” Cassandra shrugged. She glanced down to them before hooking her legs around his midsection. “Easy does it, ok?” Vergil nodded, pressing the tip of his cock at her entrance. Cassandra reached down, using her fingers to help open up her cunt. He slowly pushed into her, Cassandra wincing at the stretch. She felt a hand, Vergil’s, quietly hold one of her breasts, fingers playing with the stiff bud, in an attempt to distract her from the sting of her cunt stretching to accommodate his girth. She should’ve expected the sting from him, her first time with a man. She would rather die than ever let Draco touch her like Vergil was touching her, loving her, making her  _ his _ .

Even through the fading sting, it was heaven. Her gaze met Vergil’s, the man illuminated by the moon like it was his halo, the stars glimmering brightly as the only witness to their union. He was beauty incarnate, the captor of her heart. Perhaps this was love. 

She wanted  _ more _ , to drown in him, to have Vergil carve a place into her heart and soul until Draco’s name was a forgotten wisp of the past. 

She had no idea how long he was sheathed in her, long enough to let the sting fade away. Her eyes met his and she nodded, a wordless confirmation that she was ready. Vergil nodded to her before he pulled out his cock slowly, a low hiss slipping out from his fanged teeth until the tip was still inside her. He slowly pushed back in, earning a moan from her as she was filled anew by him. Vergil let out a slow exhale as he slowly moved in and out, finding his pace. He groaned softly as he moved, lowering his head. Silvery strands of normally slicked-back hair fell forward. She smiled and reached up, tucking those wayward strands back in place. 

“Vergil.” She called gently. He snapped his head up to meet her green eyes, shining with love. “You can move faster now. I’m ready.” 

It was as if something changed with those words. Vergil took her legs, pushing them down towards her as if he was folding her in two. Cassandra was briefly surprised at the new position she found herself in before he began to thrust. Pleasure, hot and sharp, shot up her spine and caught her off guard. She let out a soft choked gasp, hands clutching the blanket underneath them. 

“Cassandra?” Vergil’s voice carried a hint of worry, as if he feared he had hurt her. How sweet. 

  
“Did I tell you to stop moving?” She whispered. Vergil shook his head before he resumed his thrusting. He let out a low growl, nails digging into her thighs to keep her legs in place. The salacious slick sound of their conjoined sexes filled the air, punctuated by Vergil’s soft grunts and Cassandra’s moans. Vergil began to increase the speed of his thrusts, grunts becoming pants. The coiling heat in Cassandra’s gut was tightening, almost to the point where she couldn’t bear it anymore.

She tensed up and, at last, the coiling heat released into a white-hot orgasm. Vergil growled, shooting forward to swallow her wail as his seed poured into her, body tensing from his own release. 

After what felt like eternity, he pulled back. Cassandra let out an exhale, closing her eyes. Vergil let her legs down. He tried to pull away, only for something deep down to growl at the thought. He stilled, closing his eyes before he willed himself to pull out of her cunt. When he opened them, he was met with the sight of a well-fucked Cassandra, hot  wasted seed dribbling out of her.

“...Vergil?” Cassandra’s voice snapped him out of his trance. “Is something the matter?” Vergil looked down and, before his rational mind could stop himself, his fingers pushed his seed back inside her. Cassandra shuddered. “Nng...you want more, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He whispered. A ghost of a smirk crept onto Cassandra’s lips. She moved to her side, her hand reaching down to take her leg and hold it up, practically presenting her cunt to Vergil. 

“Well, I do too. What are y-” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before Vergil closed the distance between them with an aroused growl.

“ **_Mine._ ** ”

* * *

Cassandra and Vergil lay on a clean part of the blanket, Vergil’s cock sheathed inside the woman, his hand threading through her hair. She had to admit, this softness was unusual for Vergil...but she didn’t mind it at all. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” She asked.

“Very much.” He replied softly, exhausted. Cassandra sighed and nuzzled his shoulder.

“We’ll worry about getting cleaned up tomorrow. I’m exhausted. I bet you’re exhausted.” She sighed. Vergil nodded, closing his eyes. As she drifted off, she swore she heard him murmur softly in her ear. 

_ The moon, like a flower _

_ In heaven’s high bower, _

_ With silent delight, _

_ Sits and smiles on the night. _

  
_ ‘Heh, like a flower. There’s a vagina joke to make somewhere in there…’ _ Cassandra thought with a smile, just moments before sleep claimed her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poems are from Carmina Burana and William Blake’s Night


	5. Bury the Light

The first hints of autumn were creeping through the air. Cassandra was sitting in the circle window, watching as the final rays of the setting sun dipped behind the dark waves of the sea. She wore a sheer light blue nightgown, a smuggled purchase from the Mainland. In her hands was a mug with hot cider, the perfect drink to warm herself as the nights drew colder. She was all alone in the apartment, draped in the darkness with only starlight, the illuminated windows of the other buildings in Fortuna, and her thoughts. 

She closed her eyes, mulling over the events of the past month. Ever since Vergil ravished her on the rooftop, she had noticed he had been quite attached to her. Whenever they were in the apartment alone together, he hovered not too far from her. He had made a place for himself in her bed, as if he belonged there. And Cassandra, she couldn’t just push him out of bed, not when his lips peppered her collarbone in kisses and nips and his hands roamed her ever-inviting body. She couldn’t resist the temptation to hold her legs apart, to let him slide into her welcoming heat and thrust into her until they came together, moans mixed in with salacious slick sounds. Their biweekly sparring sessions always ended early with hungry kisses and rushed sex, clothes still on their person. 

Although she certainly wasn’t against all this sex, simply because it was leagues better than anything Draco could ever provide, she wondered how Vergil had enough energy to fuck her and do whatever he did when he wasn’t here. Of course, there were days where Vergil simply never returned for the night, leaving her with a cold bed that she was surprisingly becoming less fond of. She had guesses as to his activities outside their apartment: reading and fighting off demon packs that tried to bother him. Anything else?

No fucking clue.

She faintly heard the sound of a portal opening and knew Vergil had returned. She was familiar with Yamato’s ability to open up portals, first seeing the ability after a nasty battle with a demonic horde. It was quite the useful ability, Cassandra had to admit. She glanced up, her eyes following the faint outline of her roommate stepping out of the hallway and towards the window. She immediately noticed the lack of an infernal aura, setting her on edge. 

“Did you have a good time out there?” Cassandra asked, leaning over to set the mug down on a nearby side table, keeping her eyes on Vergil. 

“It was fruitful.” Vergil replied, sitting down across from her. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small cloth bag. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, noticing how the infernal aura seemed to return as the bag moved away from his person. “Take it.” He ordered. She took the bag and opened it, finding an amethyst ring set in gold. The gold looked faded and old, like it was an antique Vergil found. The setting that the amethyst was set in looked like a crown, a design that modern rings didn’t use unless it was custom made. She glanced to him, to the ring, and then back to him.

“You trying to propose?” She teased with a smile. She saw his face burn red in the starlight. He looked away awkwardly, earning a chuckle from her. “I’m teasing you, you know that right?” 

“This is no time for teasing.” Vergil said with a scowl. “That ring is to protect you. I am returning to the mainland tomorrow.” Cassandra’s smile faded at that news. While it was something she had expected, the news still weighed her heart down. It was true that Astra took longer to summon nowadays. In fact, it didn’t come at all yesterday for their sparring session. Vergil had to summon a spectral sword for her to practice with, an embarrassment that burned her. She couldn’t fathom a reason why Astra would fail to heed her call now. 

“Because I’m not strong enough to protect myself anymore?” She huffed bitterly. 

“No. A colleague of mine has requested me to return to the mainland.” Vergil explained. Fortuna attracts more demons than I prefer. I have no doubts you can protect yourself.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” Cassandra growled. Vergil’s silver-blue eyes focused on her. “You saw how I couldn’t manifest Astra yesterday-”

“You have connections with the Order.” He reminded her. “I do not trust them...but they do have weapons.” He paused to think. “Caliburns, I believe they are called. I have seen them on their knights.” Cassandra frowned. She was familiar with the Caliburns, a new sword made by the rising Order scientist Agnus Bazzoli. She was certain Enrico could procure one of them for her without much suspicion. She let out a sigh of defeat and slid the ring on her finger. She watched as the ring shrunk to fit her index finger, a rather convenient little thing the artifact did. She tossed the tiny bag back to Vergil, who caught it expertly. Sliding it back into his coat, he shed it and placed it on the nearby couch. 

She smirked at the sight, Vergil closing the distance between them like a predator stalking his prey. Cassandra shifted a little, parting her legs to allow him to close the distance. She heard a dark purr at her submission, Vergil’s hands sliding under the sheer robe and pushing it off her body. It fell to the ground, leaving her nude in the starlight. Vergil’s lips pressed against her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses against the skin. Cassandra shuddered, her hand pawing at his pants. 

“Shh...patience, my rose.” He murmured. 

“Screw your patience.” She hissed. “I want all of you, before you leave me.” She grabbed his cravat and pulled him close, a breath apart. “If this is the last night we have together, make it count or so help me.” A silence fell between them before the young man let out a low growl.

“As you wish.” The two kissed fiercely, all teeth and soft growls. Cassandra swore she saw a flicker of intense azure in his eyes, a flicker that made her shudder from anticipation.

Tonight, she was bedding a true demon. 

* * *

Cassandra blinked away the morning’s sun beaming into her bedroom. Her body ached all over and she swore she could feel a particularly fierce bite at the nape of her neck. She slowly sat up, her hand instinctively placing itself where Vergil would be.

“Jeez Vergil, you should’ve told me you would’ve been like th-” It took her a moment to realize Vergil wasn’t there. In fact, if the temperature of the bed and the position of the sun was any indication, he had left at the crack of dawn. He had hardly said goodbye, unless that rather intense bout of sex _was_ their goodbye. Cassandra frowned as she slowly sat up, making her way to the spare bedroom.

When she entered the bedroom, she noticed everything was put together in its place. It was as if Vergil had not been there at all, living with her, staying in the spare bedroom before moving into her bed. She leaned against the doorframe, face buried her hand. The once warm morning suddenly was as cold and lonely as the barren bedroom before her. 

He was gone. And the only way she could remember him was the ring on her hand and the memories in her heart.

“Fuck.” She sighed. “I...well, fuck. Adieu, as they say.” She murmured, knowing full well that nobody could hear her. She lifted herself off the frame of the door and shut the door to the room to mentally close that chapter of her life. She had things to do still, she could mope over his departure later. There was breakfast to eat, a shower to take, a letter to write to Enrico about the possibility of procuring a Caliburn for herself, and…

And live. She had to live. And Vergil was just a man that came in and out of her life. But why did his departure leave such a gaping void in her heart? Was it the power of young reckless love? Something more? She wasn't sure. She had just gravitated to Vergil because he was so different from Draco, she herself was young and reckless and needed something different in her life. If he had stayed longer, would it have even lasted? She hated not being able to tell if she had actually fallen in love with the swordsman or if she just wanted something that wasn't named Draco. 

"Bah, I can't spend all morning thinking about this!" She huffed as she made her way to the shower to begin her day. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fortunan Summer ends here but this fic is the prologue of Threads of Fate. The next part of Threads of Fate involves Temen-Ni-Gru and baby Nero, so look out for that.


End file.
